Eerie Mouth Skit.

101^st of Hunter’s Moon, 719.

Time is not measured by days, but by who we were when it passed us.

I write these words yet I do not know why.  What is the purpose?  All that I know has been an illusion, I have built my house on a pile of stinging salt.

Is this real?  They say the dead dream too.  Perhaps I am dreaming.

If I am dead, then I am haunting these pages with the truth.  If I am alive, the truth will haunt me forever.

Where to begin?  We arrived in Thraben yesterday, and I bade Reika to wait in the narthex while I gave Jofridus the sword.  How strange it is to write his name now.

He touched my brow in blessing, then took the cursed sword and set it on his desk.  I then told him I had far worse news, and that he should hear it from a witness.  I called Reika into Jofridus’ chamber. 

Those were the last minutes of my former life.

She walked through the door, and from the look on her face, I knew that something was terribly wrong.  “YOU!” she shouted, and before I could react, she lunged across the room at Jofridus. 

I expected him to be surprised at this sudden attack, but he looked completely unshaken, as if he expected it.  

“I saw you kill that woman under the cathedral!”  Reika was shaking with anger, as she took Jofridus by the shoulders and began shaking him.  To my astonishment, Jofridus grasped her by the throat and threw her to the ground as if she was made of paper.  How could such an old man display such strength?  I would soon find out.

I made a step to intervene, but it was a step too late.  Reika jumped back up and charged him.  Jofridus calmly removed the sword from its leather wrappings, and thrust it through her belly.

I still do not know if the scream I heard was hers or mine.

I will not write anymore tonight.  I would pray, but I’ve wasted enough breath.

I think I hear them coming.  Perhaps I will let them find me.

Raben